


Northern Star

by Tattered



Category: Frozen (2013), Rise of the Guardians (2012), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crime, Drama, F/M, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-23 17:12:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6123778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tattered/pseuds/Tattered
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She has been perched on a pedestal for as long as she could remember, until she met a man lost in the transition of time. Would they teeter to the edges, or find stability in ruins? (Modern!AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. if i die young

**Author's Note:**

> Old, old work that I'm finally updating and rebuffing. I hope you all enjoy my take on this alternate reality for this adorably tragic pair. :)

Storm clouds raged and the heavens rumbled on a cold, Friday night.

Jack Frost leaned comfortably on the reclined back seat, his legs stretched on the length of the seat with his sister scooted close to his chest. Emma is easily scared by the rain, which fell in buckets as the wind howled outside. He hugged her close, smelling powder and vanilla as he rested his chin on her head.

"Is she asleep?" his mother asked from the passenger seat.

"Out like the light, mom," he mumbled, feeling heaviness warping his consciousness. The day had been exhausting, but Emma enjoyed it. She met their cousins who lived far from the city they live in, and Jack got reunited with Jamie. The two had been attached to the hip since they were born until Jamie's family moved away.

The groan of thunder followed by the strike of lightning decorated the skies. Jack frowned, his arms wrapping unconsciously to Emma. He was glad that the little girl was asleep; she would have bawled at the sound and sight he just witnessed.

His eyes wandered to the front seat, where he saw his parents' hands intertwined atop the stick shift. Emma seemingly inherited her mother's fear of storms, and even as a boy, Jack has always appreciated the affection his parents show to each other. He smiled, fancying the thought of having a love much like his parents. With that thought, he began to doze off.

Suddenly, blinding light burned his eyes. He heard his mother's screams, and Emma crying as she was jostled awake. Metal screeched metal as Jack curled himself around Emma. Glass shards rained on his back, and the car was flipped twice, then thrice until it hit a barrier. It was followed by weightlessness, like they were airborne. Jack opened his eyes.

"Emma!" he shouted, but was taken by surprise by the force of the car hitting the cold river.

_This is bad. This is really, really bad._ Jack panicked. He waded, his wounds numbed by the cold that seeped through his skin. He swam out of the car through the broken window.

_No—_

Emma – her body – was being carried away by the current. She was unconscious, he could tell, so he let himself be carried closer to air as he paddled. He was getting closer – _a few more kicks_. He reached his hand to her smaller ones—

He felt something sharp pierce his abdomen, his body bypassing Emma's. His mouth parted in pain, bubbled of air escaping as he choked. His lungs felt like they were on fire, and he was quickly losing consciousness—

The last things he remembered were the blinding pain at the back of his head and the free fall.


	2. to love is duty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I've said when I first posted this story elsewhere, I took certain liberties in developing the characters I used in the story in relation to their original characters in the movies. I hope you enjoy reading them under a different light.

Footsteps graced the carpeted floor outside his room. If it wasn't for the quiet of the after-office hour, he wouldn't have heard of the approaching figure. With the only light open in his office, he waited for the silhouette of the person to step out of the shadows. He counted to ten, and unsurprisingly, turned his swivel chair to the left as the intruder slithered inside.

The look of anticipation graced her features. Beautiful, he mused, but dangerous. Her beauty is the type of flame that burns everything in its way, a forest fire uncontrolled and unforgiving. He would know that she is a walking catastrophe; how else would he be attracted to her?

"Good evening, my sweet," her voice sounded like honey.

He nodded in greeting. She took it as a sign to close the door and take an unopened bottle of champagne and two flutes at the nearest cabinet from the door. She popped the cork and paced the flutes down, angling the bottle so she could pour and share this liquid celebration with him. He sighed, his eyes glancing outside through the glass wall.

Pressure from nimble hands pushed on his shoulder, then replaced by a nose grazing upward to the back of his left ear. Lips pressed where the nose paused. He gripped the sides of his chair tightly as he stood up, knuckles pale and skin taut.

Her face was painted with hurt and confusion. He never rejected her, even with the fury of his father lashing on them. _There always is a first time for everything._ Her eyes are onyxes that glinted against the dimness of the room, and he was entranced by its whorls and fire.

Rejection had never been easy. "We need to end our relationship," he was transformed from a reckless, young man who longed to experience the world to a replica of his father – cold, hard, and unrelenting.

Only the widening of her eyes betrayed the surprise the news brought, then she laughed. "Oh dear, you simply are too stressed. Don't say such non—"

"We're splitting, and that is final," he said, giving no room for argument.

Her eyes narrowed, her voice venomous in betrayal, "Did you not just brush of our relationship for two years—"

"Yes."

Skin hit skin, his head drawn to the left. "How dare you ruin this...this relationship," the sob that was stuck on her throat finally escaped, "We were past this! We have set aside our issues – your wealth and my history. We worked this out before—"

"We did," he answered back, facing her. "We've overcome, but I gave no promise about the future—"

She scoffed, "You have no sense of commitment—"

"I am committing myself to my family and for its betterment!" She was taken aback, the back of her legs hitting the edge of his glass desk. "You have seen how I drove myself to the ground to achieve success for my family, so you have no right to lecture me about commitment!"

"It's different for us!" She pushed him back with a force that surprised him. "It's different! We are different! I shared you my bed, my body, my home. We have love—"

"I do not love you."

The silence that followed was suffocating. He stared as tears begin to well on her eyes. He pained for this woman – the woman who had so willingly taken refuge in his arms. She had been through so much, and was willing to repay him through any means. So he let her in – never too deep that she would burrow and leave a mark, but not simply a graze that could be mistaken as an illusion. He managed to save her because he cared. He only cared.

He watched as she schooled her features into something sinister; it was an image that he knew he could never forget.

She walked towards the door, and not a sign of resignation was evident in her walk – as if nothing transpired in the room minutes ago. "You would receive my two-week notice first thing in the morning."

The sound of her fading footsteps were louder than her screams.

* * *

The last of the scotch dragged down his throat in a slow burn.

Gideon Arendelle placed the glass down, his vision less focused after the last few drinks. Something pounded from inside his head, like a prisoner wanting to escape. Or maybe it was his subconscious trying to knock some sense to him; _don't give in, don't give up the dream you've fashioned yourself._ His vision flashed brown and clear as he faced forward, bottles of alcohol lining the mini bar. He saw his tired face, eyes squinting with bags underneath and cheeks flushed against pale skin. His hair appeared like crow's nest. His coat and tie hung limply on his tall frame, like his clothes were too weary to hold its wearer into one piece.

It was the longest week in his life to date.

Gideon believed himself to be a good man. He had been trained as a child that as an Arendelle, he has to leap bounds and to remain loyal to his family. Every member has a duty, and nothing should stand against their way of achieving it. Since childhood, Gideon has leapt distances as far as his eyes could see, and as he moved constantly, his vision spread. He held the world at the palm of his hand, and he crushed anyone who dared to take it from him. He followed the rules to the tee.

But why should it not be enough?

_I do not love you. I am bound to my family. My life is for them. My future, I dedicate to them._

Some words, when expressed, could still be redeemed. But the words that out-poured are the knives that slipped away from our grasps, knives we unconsciously intended for the heart. He knew that the goal is to cut ties and to set the plan for the future in motion.

And he did it, just as expected from an Arendelle. The same time, he chained himself to his family for the last time. The last, because it was his hands that bound him as he held his father's and took the reins of their family legacy. There was no going back.

_Goodbye—_

* * *

Edna Winters met him on a summer morning, when she was presented to their family patriarch for a day of introductions. She found it ironic, how the nascent of such a big shift in her life came on a season completely opposite of her name.

In his eyes, she saw a man who resigned himself to whatever the fates have spindled for the rest of his years. In all honesty, reluctance has been residing in her heart since the proposal came. Old-fashioned, she once commented, but not a rarity in their society. Edna felt that gratitude was more proper, but she could not force it on herself to be receptive of the idea. The man that stood in front of her was a man holding a white flag as he faced his demise. They did not deserve this.

"Ms. Winters," politely, he began, taking her proffered hand and kissing its back.

"Please call me Edna," she answered back, her eyes still wide from the act of intimacy he opted for rather than the common hand shake.

"Edna," he said, his tongue rolling as if her name is a sweet to be tasted, "call me Gideon."

She gave him a small smile, noticing that their hands were still holding. Edna watched as he stared back, his eyes reminding her of a calm sea. How fitting, she mused, that his eyes do not reflect the storm underneath. This man – all decorum and strength – wore the perfect disguise for his future wife.

"We do not need to love each other," Edna curled her hand and clasped it to her other, "We are not obliged to love each other. To feel something, however, is unavoidable. I guess we could...care for each other. Not for ourselves, but for the family and the child or children I would bear for you."

Gideon's eyebrows furrowed, "I am not that cruel of a man to have you lead a miserable life simply because we are not the other's choice. We have time to learn. It will not be good to have the children live in a loveless home."

Edna covered her face with a fan, walking towards the window. "Children, you say?" her lips might be hidden, but her eyes were lit in mischief.

Gideon scoffed , "If you must know, men in our family are virile—"

"I was just joshing you. Don't sweat it," Edna nearly laughed as Gideon's surprise of her amusement turned to an inaudible sigh, "I shall comply with your plan then."

When they parted ways that night, Edna could not deny how his lips lingered a few seconds longer than the first time he kissed the back of her hand.

* * *

It was not difficult to care for Gideon Arendelle.

Edna was aware of who he is. He is the only son of a real estate mogul and a reigning socialite. He was educated on private schools from primary to secondary level, with leadership and sports for extra-curricular activities. He finished his undergraduate and masters' degree with honors, and was a well-commended bachelor prior to their arrangement. He would pamper himself by sailing and swimming, and has been receiving recognition from its circles since he was introduced to them.

But other than his achievements, Gideon is a good man. He is kind, compassionate, considerate, and generous. He did not only tolerated her antics, but also allowed himself to be into her life. While they had never been acquainted prior to their arrangement, he knew more about her than others would.

It was no surprise when she began to have feelings for him, and so she savored the opportunity preented by their wedding night.

_We need an heir or an heiress,_ he once reminded her. But in her mind, Edna was aware that should any offspring result from the consummation of their marriage, for her, it was not simply for duty.

On their wedding night, as Gideon slept on his back while she watched him in sleep, she whispered, "From now on, I will hold you in your endeavors and be the woman for you."

She held the babe in her arms as she quietly snuggled on her chest. Pale skin, a tuft of platinum blonde hair, blue eyes, warm body; Edna's eyes pricked upon seeing one of the most beautiful sights in the world.

"What do we call her?" Her mother asked, excitement in her tone. From across the bed, Edna caught Gideon's eyes.

_I want her name to be symbolic,_ Gideon once shared to her. When she gave him the name she had in mind, he wondered why. _We made a lot of promises from the day we met. Won't it be fitting if our daughter's name would remind us of that?_

She smiled as she whispered, "Elsa."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trivia: Elsa means "oath of God" or "God is satisfaction." Fitting, yes?


	3. little queen

They brought Elsa home on Christmas eve.

Edna held the babe in her arms as she suckled from her breasts, feeling the soft puffs of air coming from her nose. She was enamored by the sight of the little girl all curled and covered up; the little angel is all hers, and no amount of presents w\could make her feel any better than of this moment. Edna was fascinated by the little curves that molded against her body, its warmth reaching out to her. How could something so small give such joy?

"She's a quiet child," Gideon commented as he parked in their driveway.

"Definitely yours," Edna teased, her eyes never leaving Elsa. "As far as I know, I was a nightmare when I was a baby. My mother won't stop telling me that Elsa will be the retribution. Guess I got lucky," she ended with a smirk.

"Indeed," Edna caught him turn to her direction, but he immediately moved back. A hint of red began creeping from his neck.

She laughed at his embarrassment. Even if a year already passed since their arrangement, Gideon was still unsure of how to act around Edna. "Aw, don't be shy now."

Gideon narrowed her eyes on her, "I am not. I'm simply giving you as much privacy as I can with your state of undress." He waved his hand to where he approximated the blouse was unbuttoned.

"You've seen me in less, Gideon." Her lips slowly turned upward, "I won't bite if your eyes suddenly lowers."

Edna felt the sucking stop as little Elsa unlatched from herself. Gideon offered to carry Elsa as Edna fixed herself. When she finished, she gazed at her husband, who was looking eye to eye with their newborn.

From the moment Elsa opened her eyes, Edna knew that the girl would be her father's daughter. It amazed her how Elsa would easily calm down at Gideon's presence; her yet unseeing eyes were trying to decipher the direction to which her father is. She remembered hearing Gideon whispering to the child when he thought she was still asleep.  _You are mine, my little queen,_ he would call her as he whispered her forehead. The moment he did that, Edna was assured that she made the right choice marrying him.

A knock distracted her from her thoughts.

"Mr and Mrs. Arendelle," A coat-wearing man of medium-height was the person who intruded her thoughts. Edna flashed him a smile as he opened the door. Edna took Elsa from Gideon as she exited the car.

"Kai," she greeted happily, "Meet your new boss!" Kai chuckled at the enthusiasm of the lady of the house.

"Kai," Gideon approached them.

Kai lowered his head, "Sir."

"Are our parents already here?"

"Yes, sir. Your mothers have been arranging everything since this morning. Your fathers are in the entertainment room."

Gideon nodded in acknowledgement. Edna sighed, aware that the men would still have errands to accomplish before the small gathering that night. Wanting to take a nap now that exhaustion caught up with her, she stepped towards the house and quickly escaped to the second floor, where the nursery is located next to their room.

Edna designed the whole room, from the pale blue walls to the moon and the stars decorating it. She opted for deep- colored furniture that played with various shades of blue with a spatter of white. Even a small couch was placed in the room so that when Elsa wakes up in the middle of the night, whoever gets to watch her would somehow be more comfortable. She chose blue and white because of the season Elsa was estimated to be born, and was pleased with the results.

She placed Elsa on her crib, laying her small body against the softness of the pillow and the blanket. Elsa remained asleep, unshaken by the change in position. Edna touched her stomach as she watched the rise and fall of her chest.

She did not expect to have Elsa so soon in their marriage. The only night she and Gideon surrendered to each other was on their wedding night. They just had to be so lucky to have it at one shot. The two worked on their friendship after that, with Edna aware of Gideon's issues prior to their marriage. If friendship is what they need so that their child could grow in a normal home, then Edna would have no qualms gaining Gideon's. She told herself that patience would be a necessity; things would escalate the way they should, just as things usually do.

Maybe she tried too hard. Maybe she felt for Gideon too soon.

"You're so beautiful, baby girl. Mommy will love you forever," she promised Elsa as the snow began to fall from the heavens. A tear fell from her eye, tracing tracks down her cheek to Elsa's stomach. She immediately wiped it away.

She would endure for this little babe.

* * *

Gideon felt his back muscles complain as he relaxed on the couch.

Holding a prominent position in the family company and having a one-year old daughter was taking a toll on him. Yes, he could do his job in his sleep, but being a good boss doesn't make you a good father. Even after taking over after his father's retirement, the long hours did not keep Gideon from spending time with his little queen.

He looked at the photo on his desk. As the months went by, Elsa looked more and more like her mother with his coloring. He would not forget the moment when she began smiling and giggling, like how the picture captured her and her mother.  _God, they're so beautiful,_ he mused,  _what did I do to deserve them?_  His fingers reached for the child's face, before it rested on her mother's.

True to her word, Edna never faltered in the span of time they've been together. She is a dutiful wife and a responsible mother, a gracious daughter and a humble employer. Everybody fawned over her, and it saddened him because they all had her, but she was never his.

Thinking about the past two years, Gideon could not help but feel guilt about their relationship – to say that it has been progressing gradually is an overstatement. Edna is still the same Edna who gave his allegiance to him. She never overstepped his boundaries; in fact, if he were to be honest, he would say that she erected a wall beside those he built, just to ensure that they will always be two separate people. Their wedding night was the only night they shared a bed, and Gideon did not have the heart to seek pleasure and comfort from another body. He wants the brunette whose eyes were always on fire; whose freckles he would shamelessly count when he happened to listen to her; whose lips were plump and smiling; whose voice lulls little Elsa at night; whose touch would never fail to make him crumble. While he enjoyed the dangers of passion in the past, Edna is a breath of fresh, warm air after the long winter. His lips turned upward,  _winter always gives way to spring._

A sharp knock followed by the opening of the door came as thick folder piled on his table. The intruder's voice was a buzz in his ears; he could always review the files later.

"—Mr. Arendelle," the surprise in the person's voice caught his attention.

Green eyes looked up, and noticed black orbs searching his gaze. "Can you repeat what you said, Pitch?"

The man was about to open his mouth when the door opened again. This time, Gideon saw two pairs of blue eyes watching him.

"Pa...pa!" Little hands clapped as the child wriggled away from her mother. Edna approached Gideon, passing Elsa to his waiting arms.

She was smiling sheepishly, "Sorry, I had to come. I have Gerda running errands and an emergency meeting came up—"

Gideon reached for her, his hands following the curve of her shoulder. "Go ahead."

Edna sighed, "Oh thank you." It was then she noticed the other person in the room, "Oh, you have a guest. I apologize—"

"He's my new secretary, Patrick Black, but we call him Pitch. Pitch, this is my wife, Edna," Gideon introduced. Edna cordially offered her hand.

"Hi, nice to meet you. Call me Edna. Do not let this workaholic drive you insane—"

"Edna, don't tease him," Gideon warned, albeit with amusement.

The man bowed slightly, "It's a pleasure to meet you too, Edna. You can call me Pitch."

As the introductions ended, Edna looked at her watch, her nose scrunching. "I really should go. Call me—"

She was surprised when her hand was tugged and a kiss was planted on her forehead.

Gideon released her, "Go."

If not for Elsa chanting, "Papa, kiss!", Gideon's eyes would not stray.

* * *

The Arendelles did not disappoint.

The party was held at a grand ballroom. Satin, lace, and chiffon brushed against the other. Gems sparkled from hands, necks, and ears and cuffs. Perfume permeated the air. Bodies twirled on the dance floor. Bows reunited with strings and the hands tinkered on the ebony and ivory keys of the grand piano.

She was impressed, but that was not the purpose of her visit.

After ensuring that the Arendelles were safely socializing with their colleagues, she went to the direction of the elevators. She smiled at the hotel personnel who greet her; who would have suspected a well-groomed and well-dressed woman?

It had been so easy for her to get the information she needed. The Corona Group and Arendelle Corporation were hosting a fundraising for selected orphanages across the country. Both couples were moved – she scoffed at the thought – of letting children be abandoned and be swallowed by the system. They wanted to give them a future; they had the means and the influence, so they made the most out of it. With the joint forces of the women behind Corona Group and Arendelle Corporation's heads, they planned the event.

_But then, would it be better if they feel the loneliness of losing their children? What feeling would that event instigate?_

The elevator stopped when it reached the 36th floor. She stepped out, scanning the area for any security detail. Seeing none, she smirked and walked towards the right room.

Reaching room 3621, she paused. It would be more exciting to see the reaction of the person on the other side of the door if she just knocked; the mess she would create might be larger, but at least her thirst for fun would be satisfied. If she simply used the card – which she was able to recover through connivance – then

"Don't even think of going on with what you're doing," a deep voice said from her left.

"Ever so stealthy, Max," she said nonchalantly, but the sound of heartbeat pounded loud in her chest. "Who said I'm going to do anything? Have you thought that maybe I am simply passing by and was fascinated by the door of this particular room?"

The man – Max – wrapped her wrist with his long fingers. He could sense him smirking; her pulse was bounding and rapid. She hissed at him, but he was unaffected by her hostility. "That wouldn't work for me, Gothel."

"You are a heartless bastard. Nothing could affect you," she sneered. "But if you think you can just belittle me, think again."

Max laughed humorlessly, his grip on her wrist getting tighter. "I am not belittling you, but I know you and what you could not resist."

He pressed her against the wall, with both wrists above her head. Gothel tried to kick Max's groin, but his leg easily slipped between her thighs. His head dropped on her shoulder. She was about to scream, but Max suddenly hit her jaw with his head. Her eyes watered from the pain, but before she had her bearings he pushed her to the floor. He was merciful enough not to hit her head on the sharp angle of the corner, but was sadist enough to make her fall on her ankle and break it. Gothel whimpered, dragging herself away from the towering man.

"Stay away from me!" She shouted, but the thick walls deemed the occupants of the room deaf. She cried, "Stay away from me, you fucking asshole!"

Max dropped on his knees and straddled the hysterical woman. He caught her arms again, but Gothel spitted on him. He quickly released one of her arms and slapped her with his ringed finger. Gothel gasped in pain. He lowered his face closer to her. "I would never stay away from you for as long as you threaten any of those little girls my bosses care about so much. Do not mistake me for a morally-upright citizen; I would use any means necessary to teach you your lesson."

One of the doors in the room opened. As if a signal, Max stood up. "Throw this bitch to hell."

Two men in black suits took Gothel by her arms. She screamed, but one of them put a duct tape around the level of her mouth and on her wrists, which were pulled back. She was livid, but Max was not deterred. He watched with steely eyes as she was carried away.

"Thank you for helping us set this up."

Max turned back. Kai was watching him from behind his glasses. "It's the job."

"But it can destroy you."

"I have long been destroyed by it," Max looked back to the direction where Gothel was brought. "The Corona family saved me from the mess that was my life; I would always be loyal to them, and I would keep them safe whatever means is necessary."

"Even take a life?"

Max smirked, "I've done worse."

* * *

"Mama, big ball," Elsa giggled from the seat beside her, her little hand patting her mother's rounded stomach.

"You have your baby sister in there, and you're going to take care of her," Edna ran her hands on her daughter's platinum blonde locks, amused by the way it almost reflected the sunlight. "When mommy and daddy are not around, you're going to watch over her, okay?"

Elsa nodded, "Okay. Like with Punzie?"

"Like with Punzie," Edna almost snickered. Much to the chagrin of the other girl's parents, Elsa coined her nickname because she's having difficulty verbalizing the real one. To the surprise of the adults, the younger Rapunzel responded to the name, and the two heiresses would babble themselves to their heart's desire.

It's been eight months since Gideon told her of the attempted kidnapping of the girls, and not a day that Edna wouldn't be grateful enough for Kai Russell and Maximus Welkers. The two strategically set up the kidnapper, but that was as far as Gideon would tell her. She was uninformed of the kidnapper's identity, and had argued with her husband endlessly about it, but he did not relent.  _The person was dealt with. I am just protecting you from the things you should not worry about._ She almost screamed at him in frustration after that; he knew better than to treat her like a damsel.

But she caved in when she got pregnant.

Even when Elsa was safely vacationing with her grandparents that time, Edna could not shrug off the thought of someone wanting to take her baby girl. Days after the event, she was still jittery from the idea of not knowing who to trust with her daughter. She came to Gideon that night, and he expressed the same sentiments.

She knew there are things they were yet to discover about each other, but Edna did not pry. She surrendered to the need for stability – that their girl is safe and so is he – and she took the first step.

She took his lips to hers for the first time since their wedding night. While they openly showed their affections in public, they always played it safe. That night, Edna let go of her inhibitions and just gave in.

She would never regret bringing another child in their world. It would complicate things, but she had long pushed for the optimism, and for struggling to defeat the demons in their lives.

This time, when they named their second born, she knew what to choose.

_Anna, for grace._


	4. be my angel, little dear

"Catch me, Gerda! Catch me!"

Lilting laughter echoed in the corridor of the Arendelle household as a stout woman chased after the child, her hair beginning to loosen from its braid with her trimmings of her dress fluttering against her knees.

"Miss Elsa, please stop running! You're going to trip!" Gerda warned worriedly, aware of the child's tendency to be ungraceful. As much as it pleased her to find the little lady of the house running down the halls like a normal child would instead of spending all her time gobbling after the books she's acquired over time, she did not want her to be in any way harmed. Apparently, the little girl stocked all the energy for times like these.

"I'm not going to trip!" She replied enthusiastically, arms waving as she reached the open door of one of the rooms.

"Daddy, daddy! Snow!" A little voice called from inside the room.

Gerda huffed as she reached her destination. Two heads were huddled together, as if the two occupants of the room were conspiring something the maids would surely have to fix later on. Elsa is notorious for concocting imaginative stories to entertain her father, a trait she inherited from her mother. His father is always the lucky audience of Elsa's antics. She nodded to her employer's direction, who gave her a thumbs-up, before returning back to the kitchen.

"I made a snowman with Gerda and it is big! When Anna is five, I'll bring her outside and make a big snowman with her," Elsa told Anna, her hands waving to illustrate the size of the snowman.

"Maybe we can go outside later so we don't have to wait for three years, eh?" Gideon suggested. Pools of blue lagoon swirled in excitement, the little body almost thrumming.

"Please daddy!" Elsa wrapped her arms on her father's neck, almost hanging on him.

As she enjoyed the little girl's touch, Gideon's eyes lingered on the box on his table.

He received it on mail two mornings ago, but it was yet to be opened. He was prolonging his agony by hesitating to check the contents of the package, a Pandora Box of his demons. He should open it, but it would entail being entangled to the past he willed to ignore. Carrying this baggage could be the Achilles' heel of his family, but ignorance is bliss.

"Elsa?" He called.

"Yes, daddy?"

"What do you want to be when you grow up, my little queen?"

Elsa's face frowned in contemplation. Gideon almost laughed at the sight of her thinking; he reminded her too much of their mother. Suddenly, she gasped in realization. "I want to..."

"You want to?" Gideon echoed. Elsa looked shyly at him.

"I want to be like you."

Gideon remained speechless.  _Why,_ he wanted to ask her.  _Why me? Why not your mother, whose heart is pure and whose lived all her life triumphing her demons? Why want to be like a man haunted by his shadows?_ Never in his life had he been more horrible than that moment; no child should want to make the decisions he had to make. He manipulated people to his will, ruined lives to save his skin, kept unspeakable secrets that gnawed him since he silenced them.

But Elsa gave him a winsome smile, and all the clouds that hung over him shied away from that sun.

He positioned her on his lap and pulled them closer to the desk. From their viewpoint, they could see the whole room. The walls were lined with filled shelves as tall and as wide as the room, the reminders of his achievements on the opposite side, and the receiving area at the far end of the room. Lastly, his eyes found the pictures of Edna, Elsa, and Anna on the desk.

"One day," Gideon started, "you're going to have all these. Do you want that?"

Elsa nodded.

"I'm going to count on you, Elsa, okay? Daddy's gonna count on you to study hard and work hard and to take care of Anna. Can you promise me that?"

Elsa nodded more vigorously. "Pinky swear, daddy!" She offered her little finger, and Gideon hooked his to hers.

"Thank you, Elsa," he almost croaked.

Elsa tapped her small hand on top of the desk, "Daddy, will you make a snowman for me?"

Gideon kissed Elsa's forehead, "As many as you want, little queen. As many as you want."

* * *

If there was one thing Elsa is comfortable with, it is being on her own.

At six years of age, Elsa has been such a dear to everyone around her. She is a constant source of entertainment for her sister Anna, who, at three, has been wrecking havoc at their house. She could tell that Gerda wanted to rip her hair off whenever Anna decides to roll on the floor like the dogs she saw at the park, or to yell whenever Anna does something that she was warned not to do. Elsa did her best to keep their nanny sane by spending time with Anna and concocting stories from her imaginative mind; Anna absorbed those like a sponge. Her parents are really proud of her, both as a sister and as a young student. Her love for reading has been very helpful for her to understand quicker than some of her new classmates. Also, upon entering school, her parents discovered that she has the knack for drawing.

Elsa draws anything and everything; from the toys she had in her room, to the characters from the storybooks she owned, the members of their household, the view from her window, and other stuff Anna presented to her. She stuck some of her drawings in Anna's room, which fascinated the younger girl. Whenever she draws, her surroundings would cease to exist and it was just her and her drawing materials and her imagination. It was a gift that her parents wished to hone.

Her social skills, however, left much to be desired.

Elsa liked to play with the kids at the sandbox or to ride the swing with someone pushing her from behind. She wanted to have fun with them, just like whenever she's with Anna. So she tried to reach out – draw with the kids, tell them of her stories, read books beside them – but they just don't get it. She drew nicely, and the other kids would scoff at her. They would tell her that her stories are not real. They would rather spend time outside rather than stay inside for fun. So Elsa just stopped talking to them, left with the thought that the other kids don't like her so she opted not to push it.

One day, while the other kids were outside, she sat by the window and grabbed her crayons and paper. She drew the sun, the trees, the sandbox, the swings, the slide, and the kids. It was a quiet morning; the teachers were having a "grown-up talk, just like what daddy does with Uncle Pitch" in the other room. She was trying to get the swing right when she heard sniffling from the door.

Tears were trickling down her cheeks, and she was covering her mouth with her small hand. In her other hand was something small and white with a tinge of red.

"Are you okay?" Elsa cautiously asked, not wanting to agitate the crying girl more.

The girl shook her head.

Elsa was trying to think of her name, and remembered that she is the newcomer who just started last week. She hasn't talked to her yet, as an unspoken rule.  _Nobody talks to Elsa unless they want to fall asleep._ She had seen her talking to the other kids, and Elsa felt maybe a little jealous of the girl because they easily let her in to their circle. But she's crying right now, and it reminded her of Anna,

Elsa slowly approached her, hugging her own things to her chest. As she neared her, she recognized what the girl was holding.

"You lost a tooth."

"It hurts," the voice was garbled, but Elsa understood.

"Do you...do you want me to go with you to the clinic?" Elsa offered, albeit hesitantly.

The girl's eyes widened in delight. Forgetting that she was missing a tooth and that blood still coated her lips, she smiled at Elsa. Elsa smiled back, leading her out of the room and walking towards the school clinic.

As the school nurse ushered the girl to the dentist's cubicle, Elsa sat on the waiting area, her feet swinging. She alternately glanced at the cubicle and the wall clock while nervously playing with her fingers. She could not help but be impatient because it's the first time she's done something for someone outside her home that was...good.

"Hello dear," someone called. Elsa looked up to the dentist, who was approaching with the girl. The tear tracks and the bloodied lip were gone. "What's your name?"

"Elsa Arendelle, Ma'am."

"Elsa," the dentist smiled, "you did a good job helping Tatiana here."

"Thank you," the girl – Tatiana – said.

"You're welcome," she replied cordially.

"Well, you best be back in your classroom. Your break is almost over." The dentist advised. The two girls thanked her again before walking out of the clinic. As they proceeded, Elsa felt a tug on her right hand.

"You may call me Tat," the girl offered.

Elsa wanted to hug her.  _She's my first friend!_ "Okay...Tooth."

Tatiana pouted, sending Elsa laughing at her expense.

* * *

Tatiana, or Tooth, as Elsa fondly called her, became a fixture in her life from then on.

You meet some people in our lives, and they're just meant to stick with you. Tooth was one of those people for Elsa. Ever since that day, which Tooth coined  _the day I lost my tooth but gained my best friend,_ Elsa and Tooth had been inseparable. Since her family just moved in town, it became an unspoken agreement that the Arendelles would be their friends. It helped that Tooth and Anna hit off the first time they met; Elsa was surprised that the two actually parted ways because they're so in tune with each other despite the age gap. Well, it did not matter as much when they are allowed to visit each other most of the time.

Years passed, and the friendship of the three girls just strengthened in time.

That Saturday afternoon, the three opted to go to the park. Elsa, being older than the other two, helped Gerda watch over the two. Elsa kept her placid nature as she grew up, while Tooth became the vibrant gem that she is. It was why Tooth was the one chasing after Anna who, at five, is notorious for being the opposite of her gentler sister. As they ran, Elsa kept her eyes on them while Gerda fixed their food on the picnic table.

The park is situated at the center of the village they live in. During afternoons, mothers, babysitters, and children visit there to play or simply to enjoy the warmth offered by the sun. Elsa watched as her sister and her friend chased the other kids, and remembered a time when they envied them.  _But I do not like to run after butterflies anymore. I need to study hard and watch over Anna._

"You seem deep in thought, Miss Elsa," a man's voice commented. Elsa smiled even in surprise.

"Kai! What are you doing here?" Elsa scooted over so Kai could sit. The man, even with his age, appeared tired. It is common knowledge in the family that Kai is one of her father's most trusted men, and with that comes a load of responsibility.

"Your father is lending me to Gerda so she won't get easily get tired," he replied, waving back to Anna and Tooth. "You play with them now. I'll hold the fort."

Elsa shook her head, stray hair tumbling down from its tie. "I like to sit here and draw." She paused, "Kai, how long have you known daddy?"

"I've known him since before you were born, little sweet. I am a older than him for a few years, but I've been in their family ever since he finished studying."

"So you know what he's doing?"

"Most of it, yes. Why the questions, little sweet?"

Elsa lowered her head, "Do you think I can do it?"

Kai watched the little girl; he could only shake his head. He knew Elsa from her birth, and was aware that she is growing to be a serious, young girl who almost never takes a break if not for the two figures who was now rolling on the grass to their direction. Knowing her father, he had an idea of how Gideon's been driving the child to do her best while Edna assisted the girl as much as she can.  _But that's the point, she's just a girl._

"You're your parents' daughter. You can do it and much more." Kai patted her head, and was glad that Elsa gave him a small smile. "Don't worry that pretty head of yours now."

Kai then called Tooth and Anna for their snack. The five shared food like a little family before Anna pulled Tooth for another game. Meanwhile, Gerda and Kai watched the two. Elsa took the time to walk around the park into the man-made lake near it.

She sat in one of the large boulders and watched as the water swirled. Elsa does not like summer that much, but for Anna and Tooth she endured the warm weather. If they didn't drag her out that day, she would've been in her room, spending the afternoon reading and maybe sketching if something sparked an idea. Elsa preferred winter the most, because everything is veiled in white and with it comes peace. She also liked the cookies that her mother bakes and the hot chocolate she would prepare every night' Elsa has a sweet tooth.

She wanted the quiet that winter brought, like the world is keeping a secret and it would be unfolded in the morning of the 25th. She wanted the cold, because it gave her an excuse to watch the fire as it ravaged the wood and leave ashes. She wanted Christmas carols and ice skating and surprises and—

A cry broke through her thinking.

Elsa waited. She heard the crying again. She went down the boulder and walked to her right, where the wailing came from. To her surprise, she found a little baby carrier. There was a bag beside it. Elsa curiously checked on what is inside; bottles were lined up and few pieces of clothes were folded. She heard the wailing stop.

Black eyes, pinkish nose and lips, and pale skin. The baby did not stray his eyes; even when Elsa blinked thrice, even when Gerda called her. The older woman approached her in worry, gasping when she noticed Elsa's object of interest.

"He was crying," Elsa whispered.

Gerda, being caught off guard, couldn't speak, but she noticed an envelope stuck between the baby's blanket.

"What is it?" Elsa inquired.

Gerda replied, "It must be his name."

Elsa read from the card, "Olaf."

The gurgling of the child confirmed their guess.


End file.
